Yeah I did it! Finally a new chapter :D. I've wanted to finish it in forever, but there was neither timer, nor did the muse see fit to visit me.

Thank you guys so much for the kind words you left me! They absolutely made my day and brought a smile to my face inspite of the heavy stress.

This chapter is a little outside my comfortzone since it entails some action and I have yet to write more of that XD, but I hope I could capture the mood properly. I'm also currently trying to eliminate any grammatical issues in terms of punctuation since I imported too many mannerism from my language into my writing. Sorry about that.

Joosek Michael: Believe me I know how you feel. I think I wouldn't be writing about them if I wasn't still so hung up on the game and its characters ;). Mass Effect was my first game I ever played seriously and later I tackled Dragon Age. They are all still with me. After all, the things these characters say have been written by real people and the reality hidden inside has brought me so much to still think about. Thank you for your kind words. The day I received your commen, was actually right before one of my exams and it really helped :).

Imelda B.: Thank you I'm so glad you liked it.

Guest: Aww thank you so much.

And now I hope you'll enjoy.

Part 6 - I can see you

The Hinterlands

They had been on the road for a while and the snow covered tundra slowly morphed into the lush green wilds of the Hinterlands, the air becoming more humid with the change in temperature. The smell of the woods and wild flowers always reminded Helena of the lush vegetation of the Vimmark Mountains that were towering over Ostwick and for a few moments she almost wished to be back there with her brothers and father. "I hope you are well Father."

She had not seen him since the day she had left for the Conclave with the rest of their delegation. The only word she had received was after Josephine had asked her to contact them, but the response had been more than platonic and vague, making her worry about her father even more. Nonetheless, she had written home frequently, though the letters had become more and more like monologues she noticed. Why didn't anyone write back? Maybe the letters hadn't arrived? Had her mother any hand in this? Why would she withhold them? All those questions filling her mind, frustrated and saddened her. If her mother was truly capable of doing something so degrading, then Helena feared she'd never be able to reconcile with the woman she had once believed had loved her at least in her own strange way.

Her posture had become noticeably rigid and her aura gave of a strong feeling of cold that drew the Commander's attention. She was worlds away, but he recognized the growing pain behind the frozen facade and so Cullen tried to come up with some kind of distraction to bring her back to the present. Clearing his throat, maybe a little too intently, he was glad to see her blink her bright eyes rapidly in confusion before her gaze met his. "I was wondering, why didn't you bring any of your usual travel-companions with you?"

He waited while she seemed to process his words for a moment longer than she'd usually do, undoubtedly still engrossed by the echo of whatever had occupied her thoughts before. "Ah..." She paused again seeming almost frustrated now over her own irritation. Shaking her head sharply she finally replied, her brows furrowed. "I was approached by a group of Mercenaries who want to offer the Inquisition their services and since I am in perfectly capable company with you and your men, did I and Cassandra agree on her going on ahead to the Stormcoast to asses the situation. Since she has more experience in fighting it would have been foolish to make them wait for my return anyway. Depending on how long it'll take us to plan and set the construction of the towers in motion, I'll be catching up with them soon enough."

Her assessment of his men's capabilities, least his own, had never come up in any of their discussions before, which was why her opinion flabbergasted and flattered him at the same time, causing his chest to swell a little with pride, though he scratched his neck in embarrassment. The surprise over his rapid change of emotions showed clearly on her face before it lit up with that recognizing smile of hers, which he had witnessed once or twice when her incredible way of reading people had her catch on to the most subtle change in others' demeanour and either retreat quietly or smile comprehensibly just the way she did at this moment. Something that changed his way of regarding her yet again, for he had judged her to be the usual noble before, despite the fact she was a Circle mage.

How wrong he had been before and how wrong he was still, letting his prejudice reduce her to a faceless conglomerate of bad features he carried in front of him like his shield, branding every person with it as if it were his duty or right. Sighing internally he came to the same conclusion as always, whenever he had tracked down his own foolishness and dragged it into the dry, simple truth of reality. He was -despite his own sometimes colourful rechristening of the word- still only human, not better or worse than any other as much as his own stupidity and malevolence frustrated him. It was as much part of him as the little voice of benevolence, which was sometimes so quiet he had to strain to make out its words. How one was so effortlessly pushing its way to the forefront if he didn't restrain it and the other so hard to hold on to.

This time it was her who had to pull him from his thoughts. "If I may, I would like to ask you for more information on the reason for you to join me on this errand Commander. Maybe I can even be of assistance to you." Since she had proven herself to be resourceful, cunning and capable in the field there was no reason for him not to involve her. He might as well use her abilities to his advantage. "Mother Giselle and her entourage were meant to have arrived at Haven days ago but we had received word of a group of apostates hiding in a certain part of the woods. The locals referred to it as the Witchforest, telling old tales about children and young men disappearing inside, never to re-emerge." He said that while rolling his eyes. The Commander obviously didn't believe in such exaggerated stories, but it nonetheless made it the perfect hiding place for an otherwise much too conspicuous group of people. The involvement of Mother Giselle and her followers was what had her worry though. Whatever the mages wanted with them, it was certainly not the people themselves, much less a Chantry sister. "However, the informant also stated he found pieces of leather and parchment belonging to one of Mother Giselle's prayer books having been ripped and leading into the woods." His mouth pursed in scepticism as he was lost in thought for a moment. "It sounds too obvious to me and it honestly doesn't make any sense since there is no reason for them to have even taken a route through these woods, but it is the only evidence we have to go on which is why we will leave to investigate with the number of templars I have brought along, after we have established the first building-site."

He glanced over at her noticing her to be wrapped in thought as well, her gaze facing down towards her horse while her gloved fist was gently touching to her mouth hiding the serious line that had formed there. When she spoke again it was in her usual calm collected way. "Indeed it does not make sense. They could have only picked them up on the road. Maybe in the night...Let's just hope we are not too late."

Two days after they had arrived the main plan for the first tower had been set in motion and the group of fifteen templars led by their Commander and the Herald of Andraste departed for the Witchforest. Though a narrow passage through the cliffs surrounding the farmland offered a quicker route into the suspected area, the Commander had wanted to abandon the idea of travelling through it, not keen on being cornered in the spider infested space, but the Lady Trevelyan had looked at him sternly as they were both hunched over the map inside his command tent remarking dryly, "If you are so afraid of a few spiders, then I suggest you take the detour all the way back to the Crossroads while I burn my way through and meet you after I have saved Mother Giselle on my own, since she otherwise will be dead before you set foot in that forest." Her impatience and sharpness had brought up his defences and they had glared at each other for a long moment until he retorted just as matter-of-factly, "As much as I understand your sympathy towards her and her people, there are two things you are forgetting my Lady. For one: We have no real evidence that they have even been taken there, and another thing: As long as we don't know what we are walking into I'm not going to endanger the lives of my charges and yours just because you want to cut corners." He had stood up to his full height while he had said it, towering over her by almost a head, regardless of her tall built, and had ultimately driven her into agreeing to his more reasonable approach.

She was silent now as they rode aside each other again, her emotions hidden behind her well established mask of serenity while she tried to keep herself and her horse from speeding on ahead. He was right, she had lost her temper last night, but she was worried about being the reason for the Mother's disappearance. She was a kind soul reminding Helena of many of the Mothers she had met at the Chantry in Ostwick. But she owed him an apology and so, when they where slowing down to cross the narrow waters below the still broken bridge leading towards the crumbled Fortress, did she move her Chestnut closer to the Commanders tall black Stallion until her calve touched to his, drawing his attention to her. "I'm sorry for having been so impatient and flippant last night. I let my worry cloud my judgement and I tried to push you into accepting the shortcut. I'm Sorry."

His only response was a short nod before his gaze focused back at what lay ahead.

Fitting its name thick fog wafted between the trees and shrubbery limiting their sight to only a few meters. Commander Rutherford split his men into three groups who would be following them in a semi-circle to flank their enemies and keep anyone from escaping. Him and the Herald were walking in the centre, as some kind of bait, using the limited field of vision to his advantage since their enemies wouldn't see the fifteen templars surrounding them. What he hadn't foreseen however, was the trap waiting for them.

They had been travelling for a while now, until the group was suddenly met by a strange block of ice enclosing a rock-formation in the middle of the woods. "Strange. Even with ice this thick, it would have melted in these woods, except if someone were to sustain it," muttering under her breath, the Lady Trevelyan reached out in curiosity "Why would they?" Her fingers only a hairsbreadth away she suddenly froze. She had been right. The ice literally oozed of energy, moving the Veil around it in shuddering waves that had the hairs on her arms stand on edge. Her eyes full of alert, she sought out the Commanders gaze. But it was too late. He felt it before he saw it. The ground beneath their feet shook as walls of spikes made of ice split the earth and trapped them in a narrow corridor. "Dammit!" He exclaimed under his breath. Looking to his right he saw how the mage patted down the slick wall, probably looking for a weak spot. "Can you bring it down?" The Commander asked as his eyes faced forward again looking out for an ambush. Helena beside him scowled sceptically. "It's too much ice to break it all at once, but maybe I can burn a whole through it. But this might take a while."

Turning her words around in his head for a second he finally nodded. "Do it. I'll cover you," he ordered, slightly bending his knees, broadening the expanse of his body to shield her, should any projectiles come at them. Straining his ears, he could hear muffled voices and rustling of armour behind the wall, his men trying to coordinate without their Commander but otherwise an eerie silence filled the air, all the usual sounds of the woods missing. A sharp pain-filled hiss behind him had his head turn to see the Lady Trevelyan shaking her gloved hand which was covered in a sheen of white. "Someone is constantly renewing the ice so I can't melt it away. These fools have no idea what they are doing. With the Breach in the sky and such an excessive use of magic, we are going to be facing a rift if this doesn't stop." She almost growled, flexing her stiff fingers.

There was no other way but forward and so they slowly made their way towards the dark gaping entrance of the cave before them. Halting in his tracks, the Commander whispered without tearing his gaze away from the entrance. "We need to find those responsible for those spikes, otherwise we'll probably be outnumbered should they decide to attack immediately." The woman behind him only scoffed, "What would you do if a group of templars was closing in on your hiding spot? Invite them for tea?" Even now she had still room for smart comments, causing for him to roll his eyes. Whatever he did next could only result in two possible outcomes: Either they would have to fight at a disadvantage until they could somehow bring down the walls of ice, or by a miracle they'd be able to negotiate a truce. Though the latter thought made him scoff as well. Inhaling deeply he suddenly called out. "We are looking for someone."

That even surprised the Lady Trevelyan who glanced at the Commanders back, a brow raised in disbelief while straining to hear any sign of motion in the again descending silence. "I doubt that-" She was cut off by sudden movement in the shadow and a group of ten filled the entrance, their eyes wide with fear and none of them looking to be eager or ready for a fight. "We are not here to fight you should you be able to help us find who we are looking for." The Herald said over his shoulder. Still no reaction but shifting feet, trembling limbs and distressed glances. That was when she saw it. The tunic one of the men was wearing, though now dirtied and torn in some places, was decorated with exactly the same, colourful embroidery she had seen among the men and women at the Crossroads. Quietly extracting her sword from its sheath at her side, she whispered to the Commander, "These are people from the Crossroads, not mages. These cowards are using them as a shield." The last part was hissed angrily as her eyes tried to find those responsible in the dark. A haggard looking man with unruly hair and a white and grey streaked beard made his way through the line of civilians. "Not the best day for a stroll in these woods I'd wager." He said without any humour in his voice. "My name is Navar and judging from the red Lion standing before me I'd say you are from the Inquisition."

Cullen's brows only furrowed in confusion and the woman behind him didn't look any less surprised. Most apostates, they had encountered, had not cared for titles or affiliation, too blinded by fear and hatred to differentiate any longer.

"Yes your reputation has many a man quiver in his boots Knight-Captain." The man noted, the scratch in his voice making him sound just as frail as he looked. "Excuse me if I'm not shivering, but while you were out hunting our lost brethren, you never saw what really happened in the Gallows. The lunacy and cruelty Meredith rained down upon us like acid, burning everything it touched, seeping into every crack of that Maker-forsaken place."

Helena could practically hear the hairs on the Commanders neck stand on edge as he swallowed heavily. Taking a tentative step forward she noticed, almost with satisfaction, that the hostages where immediately replaced by more mages, except for those completely off to the side. Curious. Good, at least she had their attention now. "Now that we are introduced, let's get back to the matter at hand, shall we?" The man's dim brown eyes shifted to her, sizing her up as if she was a piece of cattle at the market. "I was not talking to you. Traitor!" The old man spit out dismissively, wiping almost all the humour from the the younger mages face and for a moment they just stood there, staring each other down.

Her sword was pressed against her leg while her marked left hand was balled into a fist at her side, so nobody saw how much her muscles were shaking with rage. Something in his voice and the way his gaze reflected pure contempt, had her blood boil. The only thing that gave away her ire were her eyes. None of her allies had ever riled her up enough to bring out what the leader of these Apostates was now being confronted with, as his eyes were pierced by hers, unable to look away even if he had wanted to. The usually crystalline blue was traversed with bright green veins, an eerie glow pulsing within them. His breath got stuck in his throat as his mind was flooded by the onslaught of memories, emotions and thoughts of the souls in the Fade, raging through his mind like a storm, his body stock-still while he was screaming on the inside, begging miserably for it to stop. What felt like an eternity of torture had only lasted a few seconds and any of the onlookers surrounding them would have thought it to be a simple optical spell meant to intimidate.

Cullen's gaze had never left the man and so he could have sworn to see true horror flicker over the aged features causing his eyes to shoot over to the mage beside him for a second, but all he saw was the profile of the same calm woman he had come to know in the passing months as she rapidly blinked her eyelids a few times. He had not felt any change in the air around her, but whatever she had done had completely shifted the mood of the group from contemptuous and ready to pounce, to stunned, almost yielding in a heartbeat. Eyes trying to evade her, nervous shifting of feet as if they wanted to run. The old man especially seemed to completely fall in on himself, his features even older than they had been before.

Her voice was calm to those who weren't familiar with her intonations, but all of the prior humour was gone and Cullen could hear the tremor of anger as she tried to stay in control. "I was at the Conclave to speak for those who weren't allowed to attend, even for those who were already fighting and too blinded to see reason." In the pregnant pause that followed he could already see how recognition bloomed on the mages' faces. "Too many good people were killed in the explosion. People who made an effort of listening what both sides had to say and here you are, terrorizing those who have already been tortured enough by this senseless war. We came here to retrieve those we have sworn to protect within the Inquisition," another pause, her eyes suddenly seeking out Cullen's for a moment and he could have sworn he saw a slight green shimmer within them. Was he going mad? Maybe they had just caught a pulse of the Breach visible even from here. Or maybe his mind played tricks on him again. The silent question within them was nonetheless clearly readable and so he said, "We are not looking for confrontation, but we also can't let you go free after all this. The only thing I can promise you is this: Fair treatment even as prisoners and maybe a chance to atone while serving should you cooperate."

Helena felt it like a sharp pain behind her eyes, as the Veil was suddenly torn apart violently behind the group standing in front of them. The screaming followed immediately after, as sickening green bathed the cave in an otherworldly glow, the crackling of static within the forming rift reaching outward. The light within the cave also revealed the large group of people cooped up inside, mages and refugees alike, who were now scrambling to get towards the entrance in a panic while the walls of ice still trapped them. Helena, whose mind had quickly shaken the fright at the rifts appearance, took three steps forward grabbing hold of the old man's shoulder, yanking him around to face her again. "Bring down these walls or we'll all die in here. Now!" Urgency lining her last word. Satisfied with his first hesitant but then vehement nodding, she turned to her Commander who was already busy trying to calm the fear stricken civilians streaming out of the cave, the tide of bodies shoving and hitting another in blind flight.

The next sound reaching her ears had her blood run cold and all hairs on her body stand on end. "Of all the things-" Her instincts sent her forward in a cloud of white fog, passing through any of the civilians keeping her from reaching the rift. The sickening scratching of claws and cries of the terror demon trying to break through the shifting tear getting closer with every heartbeat. Her gaze flew back over her shoulder noting with relieve that the ice was finally coming down.

Too slow. Too close to danger. A voice at the back of her mind said. Stretching her left arm out, the mark immediately connected with the rift, buying her enough time to cast a wide barrier, shielding herself and the civilians closest to her, but there were still enough who'd be directly in harms way.

The stream of people was endless, while Cullen tried to stay on his own two feet without hurting any of the civilians around him. "Maker! Calm down!" His commanding voice boomed above the noise, halting a few in their steps and for a second it seemed as if they had heeded it, until another ear-splitting shriek tore through the moment of calm and the panic arose anew with full force. Three things happened next, and he would have missed them had he not stared towards the rift in horror of what was waiting behind it. The Lady Trevelyan had teleported, like so many weeks ago as she had given him a lecture on the Veil, now standing right in front of the tear, the mark on her hand glowing like he had never seen it before as it strangely connected with the shifting nether, but her attention was turned towards the people still inside. They were too close. Much too close. He felt the deep tremor as a sheen of blue suddenly encased those closest to her. And then his eyes met hers, filled with urgency. It was a miracle that he could hear her above all the commotion. "Commander: There is no Darkness!" Four words that had been burned into his mind as he had underwent templar-training, and without thought did Cullen shove his way closer to the rift before his focus brought forth the resisting barrier that would shield the innocent around him from harm for a time. He couldn't believe how he had done it without the influence of Lyrium, but there was no time to dwell as his gaze found the woman at the rift again.

Cullen would never forget the moment of pure and utter terror grabbing hold of him as a bony, clawed hand closed around the Herald's neck, overly long, waifish fingers digging into the material of her coat.

He had done exactly what she had expected and a huff of relieve left her. But she had lost focus. In the instant she felt the presence, it was too late. In her travels with her companions Helena had always been far enough out of reach to avoid any direct contact with the fear instilling creatures, but now as its grip around her throat grew tighter, razor-sharp claws digging into her flesh, not yet penetrating the skin thanks to her barrier, did she truly appreciate the Seekers abilities to keep enemies away from her. There was no escape now though, as she was lifted into the air, the strain of her own weight and lack of oxygen making her head swim. The only thing her brain was able to discern were the shadows of half a dozen other demons exiting the rift and pooling into the cave before twelve red glowing orbs grew ever closer, the acidic odour of decay invading her nostrils while her weakening body still struggled against the vice-like grip. Another shriek resonated painfully close to her ear, drowning out her own cry of agony as the demons spiked tail ripped into the back of her coat, the barrier failed and her flesh tore.

And then there was only light. Silence. Was she dead?

But the next thing she new she was being shaken by a big pair of hands, trying to rouse her from her stupor. "Lady Trevelyan! Maker dammit don't you dare! Please wake up!" His voice was rough no longer the smooth, slightly scratchy base she was so accustomed to. As all senses returned so did the pain and with eyes flying wide open, Helena gasped for air, panic constricting her maltreated pipe, fire raging down her back. The healing spell her befuddled mind could conjure was weak, but enough for her to stand with her Commander's assistance. Around them was only a battlefield now, the civilians having completely dispersed after the walls had come down and the cavern had filled with the Inquisition's templars, who were now battling the demons still descending from the rift.

"You need to close it. Now, or we don't stand a chance!" In any other situation Helena would have rolled her eyes at him for such an obvious remark, but right now she was just glad to be able to extend her left arm, reconnecting with the rift. Suddenly all demonic attention switched over to them. The other templars completely forgotten, Terror- and Fear demons lurking towards them. The second, as one of the terrors manifested right in front of them, Helena closed her fist and the tear turned into a twisting whirlpool of energy, pulling every demon present, back into the depths of the Fade. The booming explosion as the rift finally closed, was the most welcome sound she could have imagined.

Both her and the Commander simultaneously released an audible breath of relieve.

Their work had only just started after the rift had been closed, since the civilians had been scattered into all four cardinal directions and templars had been injured during the battle against the demons. The men and women who had fought bravely in the face of their enemies had been sad to report that one of their own had been dragged into the Fade by one of the demons, unable to escape the pull of the closing rift. Death to save the many. A destiny claiming countless lives these days. They all had names. Families. Friends. But they knew the score...

Of course a good number of mages had fled during the turmoil, but one of Leliana's agents had already checked in with them, reporting their successful apprehension.

Some had stayed behind though, among them also their leader Navar, tending to the wounded and apologizing for what they had done. It was strange watching these people. In the end they all were just looking for a place to be free, but along the way they had forgotten that the real enemy was neither the Chantry, nor the Order but the darkness inside their hearts that led to all these monstrosities. All of them lost souls in this war, trying to find someone to blame, becoming monsters themselves along the way. A never ending cycle.

There was still a long way to go, but their help was a start and considering the panic, Helena was astonished about how limited the numbers of wounded among the civilians were.

Night was falling when they finally returned to camp and it was long after midnight until the last refugee was settled. The shoulder, where the demon had sliced open her coat still hurt, but one of the women among the refugees had helped her clean it properly and the rest would be mended with magic.

What had transpired in that cave? She could only remember that light and then...nothing.

Her feet had carried her unconsciously towards the Commander's tent. Maybe he can "shed some light" on the matter. That thought had her chuckle under her breath before she called out. "Commander? I'm sorry to disturb you, but do you have a minute?" His response came belated and Helena wondered if she had roused him from sleep. Entering, she spotted him at his desk, still rifling through papers, his movements seeming strangely uncoordinated. "Lady Trevelyan. Is everything alright? How is your shoulder?" He sounded so tired and Helena regretted having disturbed him. Shifting a little uncomfortable on her also aching feet she answered, "Everything is on the mend. Thank you for your concern." Biting her lip for a second she decided, now that she was here she might as well ask what was bothering her. "While I was trapped by that demon, I saw a strange light drowning out everything else. Would you happen to know what that was?"

His hand was instantly at his neck and the Lady Trevelyan immediately knew what would follow. "That was my fault and since this ability doesn't really differentiate between friend or foe it must have also been the reason for your unconsciousness." His eyes avoided hers as he said that. "I'm sorry, but it was the only thing that came to mind as the demon grabbed you, even though it meant you'd be affected as well. But I knew you wouldn't be harmed...since it only truly harms demons...you know." His ears had become red from embarrassment as he hastily rambled his reply. Turning away, he started fiddling with the leathers of his armour and so he didn't see the knowing smile spreading on her face, but he could nonetheless hear it in her tone as she spoke again. "Thank you. I don't know what would have happened had you not done what you did. It was foolish to take my eyes off of the rift for even a second."

The rustling of fabric and chainmail stilled for a moment until his voice broke the silence, filled with understanding even though it also carried a certain sadness. "Yes it happens when we look out for others. I saw the way you protected the civilians and I don't know if I wouldn't have done the same as foolish as it is to risk life and limb, knowing perfectly well that you cannot protect these people any longer if you are injured or dead. I'm just glad I had the power to in turn protect you." He paused, "Or at least save you, for that matter."

As a comfortable silence descended between them, Helena noticed his continuing struggle with the buckles of his armour. Uttering a quiet "Allow me," did she step forward, gently pushing his weary hands aside and swiftly undoing them herself. It was no Templars armour, but close enough to the, oh so familiar ritual of undressing, that she only stopped the moment her palms connected with the bare skin of his neck beneath his jerkin and the sudden realization had her pull away. Interlacing her fingers behind her, she bowed her head, awaiting his dismissal, but she waited in vain, for only silence was his response. Lifting her eyes to his face again, Helena detected with apprehension that his skin no longer held its rose colour, but instead was pale and almost greyish, covered in a sheen of sweat.

Sinking heavily onto the simple wooden chair beside his desk, Cullen unconsciously rubbed at his eyes, fruitlessly trying to dispel the gnawing, never ceasing ache. His inner exhaustion had the voice seem miles away, but its insistence forced his mind back to the present and he could suddenly hear it clearly. "Commander? Are you unwell? Please may I have a look at you?"

He only blinked repeatedly, unable to grasp the meaning of her words, before he questioningly glanced up at her, regretting the movement immediately for it sent another spike of pain through his temple. Groaning lowly he let his head drop only shaking it in resignation. Her soft voice sounded again, this time a tad more pleading than before. "Please let me help if possible." What could she, or anyone, do for him in this state? He was sick and some times in the last months he had wondered if he hadn't been mad, to even think about putting himself through this in the first place. And after today he knew there would be no more use of his abilities in the future. He had been more surprised to see that he still had enough Lyrium in his system to be able to perform them with such efficiency. But the cost was dire he knew. He could feel it down to his very bones, every movement heavy, lined with pain. How would he get up come morning? Besides, even though she was part of the people closest to him, nobody could know about his situation. Not yet, that he still was so at hte mercy of his withdrawal.

He wondered for a moment what he must look like to coax such a reaction from her, but in the end he sighed giving in. His inner voice pleading for help, no matter how little. He was too tired to ask questions any longer. "Fine, but if I detect anything out of the ordinary believe me I'm not nearly sick enough to still smite you," he said hoping she wouldn't call his bluff.

Swallowing heavily she stepped closer again, returning to her duty of helping him out of the rest of his armour by loosening the buckles and leatherbands of his jerkin until only his linen shirt remained. It was drenched with perspiration and clung to his broad chest. Walking over to the pitcher and bowl besides his field bed, she collected both items together with two cloths and carried them over to the place in the middle of the tent, where the Commander still sat his head now leaning back against the single post that supported the midsection of it. Kneeling down before him she explained, "Listen Commander we need to get rid of your soaked shirt but I'll need a little help with that." He only gave off a low grunt which sounded like a confirmation and he slumped forward again, fumbling awkwardly with the hem still tucked away in his trousers. Clicking her tongue Helena gently but firmly shoved his hands away, not without noticing how much they were trembling and swiftly freed his shirt, hiking it upwards while exposing his taut abdomen to the rather chilly air. Thankfully he was responsive enough to lift his arms so she could finally rid him of the wet cloth, now looking upon his naked upper body. Or much rather starring in awe at the perfectly shaped muscles she found there, before she caught herself and shook her head disapprovingly about her own foolishness. What am I doing?

Reaching for the pitcher, Helena held it between both her hands, concentrating until steam rose from the long neck of the vessel. Pouring the now warm water into the bowl, she soaked one of the cloths and started to gently dab over his brow while her other hand held his chin. On the surface his skin was clammy but she could feel the heat radiating off of him as she was bowed over him. "I never thought I'd see the day when you would help me in a pinch like this." He suddenly said slurring a little. Circling him for a moment to attend to his broad back she retorted simply. "Of course I'm helping you. There is no reason to deny you anything, not after the way you defended me that first day in the dungeons and that is just one of the many kindnesses you have extended towards me since then, without taking today into account." Stepping back in front of him she returned to the Commander's neck, shoulders and chest working efficiently by first cleansing each area with the warm water and drying it off with the second cloth she had brought.

Was it so strange for her to want to help him when he needed her? Or did he think himself so undeserving of any help? She pondered as she worked.

His breath tickled her cheek as he spoke again, "I remembered you, you know?" Her head turned abruptly, her nose almost brushing his as she gazed into his half lidded eyes. The always so clear amber of his irises now foggy from sickness. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're implying," she inquired in disbelieve. Was he delirious? His voice was low and husky and caused a shudder to run down her spine. "How could I forget those eyes, especially after they had looked upon me with so much fear in them, just like that day in the forest outside the Circle of Ostwick. That was you, wasn't it?" When she didn't reply he continued, "We had been on our way to Ostwick investigating some strange sightings in the region while we were passing through to board a ship to Kinloch. I had been sent on ahead of the rest of our men, scouting the area a bit and actually pretty glad I did, because it would have been even worse had there been ten men the moment we ran into each other. The circle wasn't far off and I had watched you stroll across that clearing as if you had not a care in the world. I hadn't known what to make of you. Your smile had been so innocent and the way you caressed the plants around you had been just so mesmerizing that I hadn't dared disturb you. You were the most beautiful girl I had seen until that point. Young lad that I was. But well, you know the rest."

Eyes wide, mouth agape, did she pause for a moment, not believing what she had just heard. All this time she had thought she'd never see the young man from that day again and later when she had heard what had transpired at Kinloch, Helena had believed he had been killed. The happiness that suddenly coursed through her caused for a small relieved rush of air to leave her opened mouth which was twisted into a smile. Something wet on her leg almost startled her but then she recognized the cloth and that she still hadn't finished her task. Smiling about herself, she continued reaching up to clear the rest of his chest and abdomen from sweat, a blush creeping onto her cheeks while she dried his warm skin, feeling the taut muscle beneath her hands.

Helena crossed the space to the small Trunk at the foot of his bed and retrieved a clean shirt from it. Turning back to him, she saw that he had risen from his place on the chair, steadying himself against the wooden post, his eyes never leaving her until she was standing before him again, offering him the shirt so he only had to put his arms through the sleeves while she lifted the bunched up fabric and the opening over his head, straightening it as it slipped down his body. Reaching up Helena gently pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. He was warmer than he should be, but it was nothing that couldn't be taken care of with a little restorative magic.

She was glad he had been so cooperative even now that she steered him towards his bed. As he was securely positioned under the covers, she leaned forward hesitantly reaching out her hands. But the moment her palms were coated in a soft green aura, his hands shot forward from where they had been lying beside his body and grabbed her wrists in a vice like grip. "You won't touch me with those venomous claws of yours you filth." He spat from between his teeth. His eyes on fire with blind anger. The pain in her forearms and his sudden outburst had caused the air to become stuck in her throat and she couldn't reply. And so they remained in that awkward position for a moment that seemed like hours to her until he spoke again. "How dare you wear her face you filthy demon. Thought you could trick me by using her to get to me didn't you? Well forget it! I will never submit to you."

What was he talking about? She was neither a demon, nor did she want him to submit to her. Helena's mind raced after hearing him say that. Something was definitely wrong with him. His eyes were not really focused on her but looking through her, his hands which had only trembled slightly were shaking now and not just because of the painful force with which he still clasped her wrists. What were she to do that would not hurt him? "Commander Rutherford please it's me. I'm not a demon I don't want you to submit to me!" She argued, but he just spat the word "Liar." and she sucked in a pain-filled breath when he twisted her arms further to the side. Her left hand suddenly pulsed brightly and had them both pause. His gaze turned from her face to her hand and back a few times before his grip finally started to loosen.

The burning as the blood returned to her stiff fingers brought tears to her eyes, but she fought them down biting her lip. The Commander was quietly staring ahead still sitting upright in his field bed, emptily gazing at his shaking hands. Maker she hadn't noticed anything the whole time she was with him. This wasn't simple deliriousness caused by exhaustion and sickness. This was something she recognized just now that she had been confronted with all of its symptoms. The sweating, probably head-aches now that she remembered the constant tightness around his eyes, the delirious state and the excessive trembling of his hands. And now hallucinations. She had only witnessed Lyrium-withdrawal once, but it had been just as violent...and deadly. Covering her mouth with one of her hands she turned away, forcedly breathing through her nose, trying to calm down. Who did this to him? Was it Leliana? Or even Cassandra? How could they?

After a moment of pause, a last question arose inside her mind. Or was he doing this to himself? And why?

A warm hand at her shoulder startled her, expecting the next violent episode, but there was no more anger twisting his usually handsome face, instead it had been replaced with utter remorse and sorrow. Pulling her against his chest he buried his face in the crook of her neck, his hot breath causing her to shiver violently though she couldn't tell if it wasn't still the fright from before that had her almost shaking like a leaf. "I'm so sorry." He almost wept and his arms tightened around her but it was not painful this time. In a strange way did it comfort her as well, though she still didn't believe that he was completely himself again. "It's alright Commander no one is going to hurt you any longer, but you should sleep now." He didn't move for another long moment, simply holding her. "I'm so sorry Hawke I couldn't help her. I'm so sorry." That was when she knew he was still trapped in his delusion. Sighing deeply she carefully slipped from his grip and pressed him down onto the bed again and his eyes found hers, still pleading. "It was not your fault Curly. Anyone else would have done the same." She lied, deliberately using the nickname Varric and Hawke had given him in their time in Kirkwall. Varric had told her after he had first used it and she had asked about its origin. Whoever Hawke really was, she probably didn't know anything about his guilt.

"Don't call me that." He muttered under his breath and a sad smile spread on her lips.

"Sleep now." She simply said, feeling how the events of the day and this evening weighed down her form. Every muscle aching, her eyes also heavy with drowsiness. Thankfully he obeyed and was soon fast asleep. Placing her palm on his forehead she focused her thoughts and the green aura reappeared, this time without interruptions. Almost crawling on all fours towards the tent's entrance, Helena pulled herself up using one of the flaps for support before gazing back at the sleeping man on his cot with sadness darkening her features. Her mind only filled with a single question. "Why does it have to be you?"

Morning came sooner than she would have liked, chasing away the serenity of the dark and while the sun slowly rose on the horizon, Helena found herself sitting over the last glimmering embers of last nights campfire, eyes gazing unfocused into nothingness.

Despite her exhaustion, sleep had eluded her, her mind filled with pictures of creatures of the Fade, cries of pain and torment echoing in her head and after senselessly thrashing around in her bedroll for what had seemed like hours, the confines of her tent had become too suffocating, causing her to flee.

One face she recognized, among the many others that haunted her, had been at the forefront of her mind, being twisted into the most horrifying ways she could conceive, leaving her heart racing and aching at the same time. And she hated it. Hated how much it bothered and at the same time left her feeling indifferent that one of the templars had died, a man she didn't even know. How she felt like a liar and a monster, facing the reality that a part of her feigned sadness, though deep down she couldn't feel a thing. And at the same time she hated, how her heart broke at the certainty a man she respected and all in all had finally come to like, would most likely die by the ramifications of his abstinence because he had decided to, for whatever reason, stop taking Lyrium. Weakness she could not allow herself to be dragged down by. But it just hurt so much.

Busying herself by preparing breakfast, tending to the wounded, splitting and reorganizing supplies until the sun had already passed its zenith Helena finally stopped for a moment. Inhaling the rich air filled with the different fragrances of wild flowers, herbs and even the different kinds of trees, mixing with the smell of metal, mud and horses. A symphony of life all around her, she could appreciate again, now that her mind was finally free from the cycle of doubt and self-destruction from this morning.

A subdued cough behind er had her turn with a start. Bright amber eyes met muted blue and it was as if their roles had been reversed. His cheeks had regained some of their colour, but most of all the tightness around his eyes had dissipated, his posture was impecaple as always and she could detect no obvious tremor as her eyes roved over him. How she must have looked like, greasy and exhausted that she was.

"Come with me." He simply ordered and turned to walk into the direction he had come from. Helena had no difficulty catching up with him, his strides perfectly in time with her own despite her noticeable fatigue. Ever the gentleman. They walked until they reached one of the trees on a hill overlooking the camp, the sound of the bustling between the tents only a muted buzzing now.

"Sit," her Commander stated, pointing at the thick patch of moss between the tree's gnarly roots, adding a gentle "Please," when she didn't react immediately. Still not really sure what his motives were, Helena obliged his request without any objections, but the moment she sat down, feeling the cool treebark at her back and the warm sun on her skin, she knew. He was quietly but adamantly requesting her to take a break. A smile played around her lips and she hadn't noticed that she had closed her eyes until something landed in her lap startling her yet again before she could notice that it was just a pouch filled with some food and a waterskin.

Searching and finding him seated upon a stone beside her she looked at him with a slightly scandalised look, none of them had to say a word since the way his brows were raised, his face clearly said in return "Do I need to ask?" Shaking her head Helena chuckled while rifling through the contents of the bag. And so they sat in companionable silence as she ate her meal, none of them feeling the need to fill the content silence with useless chatter. Just enjoying the view and a few moments of peace and quiet.

Commander Cullen Rutherford had awoken this morning, feeling better than he had in a long while. No, he could not even remember when he had last felt so clear and steady. The ache in his bones was only faintly noticeable, his hands almost as steady as back in the day before he had stopped taking Lyrium. He only remembered his last conversation with the Lady Trevelyan, regarding the occurrences within the cave but after that...Someone had clearly helped him out of his armour since it had been left stowed away differently than when he did it himself. Had she stayed? Was she the reason for his condition? What had he said? Or done?

Then it dawned on him.

Did she know?

After having dressed he went looking for her but was instantly swarmed by messengers and soldiers vying for his attention and so he resigned himself to his mountain of work before he tried finding her again, which proved no easy task since she seemed to be moving around just as much as him. Asking around the camp he had learned that she must have been up since the early dawn for she had been helping out all around with chores regarding the well-being of his men and the civilians they were housing until they were ready to depart for Haven. He had missed her at the lunch table and started to worry.

It was early afternoon when he coincidentally spied her standing between the tents, her unruly hair illuminated by the sun brining out the coppery undertone in the otherwise honey golden waves. He couldn't see her face but her shoulders were hunched over and the way that mud and dirt clung to her arms and the plain clothes she wore, told him he was right on time.

Being somewhere else entirely, she visibly jumped as he tried to announce his presence to her as politely as possible and the second his eyes met hers he wondered if he usually resembled the sight presenting itself before him now. Her hair was unkempt and filthy, so unusual from her normally sleek appearance. Her beautiful blue eyes were noticeably dim and rimmed by dark circles speaking of obvious lack of sleep, her skin was pale and reddened where tools and ropes had chafed it leaving it raw.

Sighing he had her follow him to the tree he had spotted earlier in his search of her and had found it appropriate for a little break, secluded and yet not completely disconnected from all else. She looked so tired and somewhat haunted when he searched her eyes, that he strongly hoped to not have been the reason for her distress. Looking like a child as she settled between the tree's tall roots he studied her, noting the small smile playing around her mouth, her eyes having fallen shut as she bathed in the sun filtering through the branches, creating dancing shadows on her features. How delicate and fragile she looked, while all of them had already started expecting her to be their rock. Steady and unyielding in the face of the elements, though even that analogy was false he noticed smiling ruefully. Remembering the whole purpose of his search Cullen pulled the small pouch from his belt and carefully dropped it into her lap, earning himself another of her disapproving looks like whenever he surprised her. An expression he found rather adorable and which he had come to elicit from her with morbid pleasure whenever he saw the opportunity. No one said he couldn't tease back in his own way.

Watching her eat in silence, his mind wandered back to the night before, still trying to remember what exactly had transpired between them that left him extraordinarily rested and her like the female version of him after a week of insomnia and work stacking hire than his head, though he hoped he always managed to at least keep his appearance from going down the drain.

Spying yet another messenger, Cullen quickly rose from his seat atop the small boulder beside her, turning to dismiss himself only to find the Lady Trevelyan asleep, her head resting back against the trunk of the large tree. Turning quickly to stop the messenger from advancing any further towards them, Cullen swiftly untied the straps keeping his mantle in place and carefully draped it over the sleeping form of the woman before him. Crouching he was at roughly eye-level with her, taking in the serene expression on her face. Maker what would I give to know what you are thinking of right about now. Studying her for a moment longer, his eyes fell onto her slender hands still noticeably red from manual labour. Extracting a small box from his pouch Cullen sent another look over his shoulder, noting that the messenger had not moved from his spot at the foot of the hill.

In her dreams Helena felt warm hands gently grasping her own, rough with calluses but endlessly tender in the way they touched her, massaging the tired, tensed up muscles, spreading warmth throughout down to the bone. The first thing she noticed waking up was the warm weight encircling her and something constantly brushing against her skin due to a soft breeze. Opening her eyes she was met by something furry just below her chin, tickling her with every movement of the air. She must have fallen asleep soon after she had practically devoured the meal the Commander had been so kind to bring her. He had left her his coat, her face growing warm at the thought of him touching her while tugging her in. Judging by the sun it couldn't have been more than a few hours since he had brought her up here to take a break she had direly needed, yet had not had the opportunity or mind to take it. Inhaling deeply as she stretched beneath the coat, she was surrounded by his unmistakable scent that reminded her of autumn leaves after the rain, mixed with the usual citrusy fragrance of whatever he used to keep his hair in perfect order. Though Helena had caught him in more than one situation, when a few of his curls would break loose falling into his face, leaving her almost week in the knees. But only almost. How deep would she fall if a few unruly hairs in a handsome man's face could undo her so easily. Rolling her eyes at herself she rose from her place beneath the tree, stretching her stiff limbs.

Chuckling about herself as always when she caught herself being foolish, she rose and returned to camp to get cleaned up and ready to depart to the Stormcoast that night. Besides she had to return a certain red cloak to its rightful owner.

Now

He adored the way her emotions were reflecting on her face while she searched for an answer. Nuzzling her with his nose playfully beneath her ear he was rewarded with her squirming in his arms. "Stop interrupting my train of thought." She wheezed between laughter, swatting him on his chest. After she hald calmed down Cullen released her only to frame her face with both of his hands. "You are taking far too long my Lady," he teased , feigning impatience before kissing her again, her response just as eager as before. After breaking apart she returned a little out of breath, "Well, there are a lot of fond memories to rifle through, mind you, and you have to condone me for trying to discern when exactly simple infatuation along with a trusting friendship turned into more than that."

He could only agree with her on that account, considering his own inability for that matter. "What were you thinking about?" Cullen inquired, curious now in the face of her obvious recollection of concrete details of past interactions. After a moment of pondering if she should tell him or not, Helena finally answered, "Do you still remember our little adventure in the Hinterlands?" Typical for her to answer a question with another question, in that regard she often painstakingly reminded him of Leliana. Considering how much time they spent together it didn't seem all too surprising though. "Yes I remember...but I must admit I still don't really recall what happened that night, after you had closed that rift. We actually never spoke of the events again. Would you care to enlighten me?" Playing with the stubble at his chin she bit her lip, not sure if this was such a good idea. After all there had also been something concerning Hawke, something Helena had lain to rest that night because it had not been her place to meddle then, and it probably was not her place to meddle now, even though she could grasp the relationship between them better. She wasn't even sure if that bit of information had been a true memory, though as dreamlike as his delusions had been, she still believed them to hold some truth. After all he had told her about their first meeting. In the end he won by looking at her with those guilt imbuing eyes of his and she gave in under the weight of his gaze.

"After I had helped you out of your armour, I noticed something was wrong and I got worried. You were feverish and sweating so the only thing I could think of doing was get you cleaned up and into dry clothing." His raised eyebrow did only fuel her embarrassment, but the darkness gladly hid the deepening red in her cheeks. Or so she hoped. "What would you have done in my stead? It was not like we had brought a healer along and causing a ruckus over something I was perfectly capable of handling would have been just foolish and disconcerting," she argued.

"You just didn't think of it. Admit it." He said dryly, the corners of his mouth twitching as he tried to keep from smiling, but she had already taken the bait. "Of course I didn't think of it, my mind being completely occupied by the half naked man in front of me, testing my restraint with every intake of breath and at the same time he was revealing to me how he had been the young templar I had met back in Ostwick, whose kind smile and sweet nature had me cry, later when I heard Kinloch's circle had fallen and nobody had survived. Your were..." eyes wide with shock, her mouth agape, she only stared at him. What, in the name of Andraste had just gotten into her?

Cullen had never heard her ramble like this before. No, he had never even heard her utter so many words in a row and at such speed. Taking in her words he felt flattered and embarrassed at the same time. So he had told her about that time. Maker what else had his withdrawal-riddled mind choked up while she had taken care of him? It couldn't have been that bad considering she was here with him now, reciprocating his feelings. "I was...?" He encouraged, curious about what she had wanted to say, trying to persuade her to go on.

After having made a complete fool about yourself anyway you can just as well tell him the rest. Her inner self told her, resigning itself to the simple truth. The expression on her face was that of calm again as she spoke now. "You were the only other man outside my family who had not looked at me as if I was a monster. I knew it was foolish to be so presumptuous but you really seemed like a templar with the believe that even though we mages were weighed down by our abilities and susceptibility to demons, that we were not cursed. Still children of the Maker and worthy of the benefit of the doubt until we either proved worthy of his love or chose to lust for more power succumbing to demonic influence." Her hands were framing his face now, gently caressing the outline of his jaw, sending shivers down his spine. "You made it so easy to fall in love with you then and even though I later met a man, raddled from everything he had seen and done in between, I had the pleasure of getting to know that man and recognize he had not changed despite all that," a tear was rolling down her cheek and he caught it noticing the wetness in his own eyes with surprise. Bowing his head until his forehead touched hers, they simply stood there. After a long while of simply sharing the air and warmth between them he could only say "Thank you." The poorest and yet only thing he could find, unable to voice what he felt right in this moment. How his whole body was practically bursting with happiness, exhilarated and swooning over the fact to have found someone who could look behind the professional mask of Commander of the Inquisition and just saw Cullen, lost and searching for what was truly himself.

He had made it easy to fall in love with him? Coming from the woman who had always looked at him with curious attention, not a trace of judgement hiding behind her eyes. Only undesrtanding, trying to find an explanation or otherwise remaining quietly rapt in thought. How none of them seemed to know the way they affected people with their presence.

What a strange pair they were.

Phew this was a long chapter. Let me know what you thought if you want ;). You may have noticed that I don't really map out my chapters, just writing whenever I have an idea. I re-read my chapters and change things along the way if I'm unsatisfied with how it turned out. Just finished retouching all chapters prior and I hope their all in all sound is more alike now.

Thanks for reading :D